Why Would We Work at a Day Camp?
by Bow to me Fools BOW I SAY
Summary: Marik is depressed because he can't get a job on his own. Bakura begrudgingly agrees to help him, but what will happen at their new-found occupation? Are they in over their heads? Will there be children's card games? You decide! Abridgedverse, thiefshipping, interactive fic. We'll go T just in case .


**A/N: Hello my peoples! How are you all doing on this fine day? Personally I feel like my legs are gonna fall off! Aren't the first days of practice simply fantastical? **

**So, I was at swim practice a few days ago and at the end, I noticed that the college we swim at (since my high-school has no pool) was putting on a summer camp for little kids. They were adorable and happy and I started wondering… What if Marik and Bakura had to deal with that? What if they were camp councilors or worked for a day-care or something. Wouldn't that be hilarious! And that's how this was born…**

**Warning: This is an abridgedverse fic with Thiefshipping. Get over it. **

**Disclaimer: I own Yu-Gi-Oh (abridged or otherwise) just about as much as Marik Ishtar is straight. **

A slam of the door startled Bakura out of his book. He refused to look up as Marik Ishtar, the young Egyptian he shared the apartment with, sulked in. His slim hope that Marik would not notice him was crushed as the boy purposefully walked over to the couch Bakura was sitting on and collapsed onto it face first, groaning into the cushions. Bakura continued to ignore him. Marik groaned again, louder this time. Bakura sighed impatiently.

"What happened _this_ time, Marik?" he asked without looking up from his book.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Marik replied, his voice muffled by the couch cushions. Bakura's frown deepened in frustration.

"Well, why don't you sod…"

"It all started after my latest encounter with Yugi!" Marik began, his head shooting up, "We were dueling—and I so totally would have won if the friggin' Pharaoh hadn't helped him cheat—and then one of his foolish friends told us to hurry it up so that he could get to his day job and then I started laughing because he was stupid and then the Pharaoh was all like 'you probably couldn't get a job even if you wanted to' and I was like 'I so totally could' and he was like 'prove it then' and I was all like 'fine, I will' and he said 'fine' and I said 'fine' and so I've been looking for a job all day and nobody hired me and I don't know what to do Bakuraaaaaaa!" He had tears glistening in his eyes by this point and a pathetic look on his face. Bakura, having had seen this act before, was not impressed.

"What the bloody hell do you want _me_ to do about it?" he asked, glaring down at the boy.

"Come with me!" Marik replied.

"No," Bakura stated simply and returned to his book.

"Oh, come ooooooooon!" Marik insisted, wrapping his arms around Bakura's pale one. Bakura fought back a blush at the sudden proximity. Honestly, that boy had no concept of personal space.

"How exactly would it help to have me with you anyway?" Bakura asked, trying to focus on his book. Marik bounced off the couch.

"Because with my evilness and your Britishness we are the most unstoppable force in the world! No one will be able to say no to our evil demands! Also we are sexy!" he declared, raising his fists in what was meant to be a dramatic fashion.

Bakura sighed. He would never be able to understand Marik logic. What he did understand was that Marik would not leave it be until he had accomplished his goal. Worse, he would not leave _Bakura_ be until he had accomplished his goal. Worse, still, if he did not accomplish his goal, he would dramatically mope around the apartment for at least a week, effectively becoming _more_ annoying than he already was. Bakura snapped his book closed. Why, of all the people he could have picked for a roommate, had he chosen the over-emotional, closet-case diva?

"Fine. I'll bloody help you. But only so you'll shut up about it," Bakura said. Marik squealed in a decidedly feminine fashion and hugged Bakura.

"Thank you, Fluffy!" he said.

"I told you not to call me that!" Bakura said, fighting off another blush.

**MEANWHILE, THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY**

"I can't believe I still don't have a job!" Marik shouted several hours later.

"Maybe the way you kept threatening to 'thrust your rod' at people was a bit of a turn-off," Bakura remarked sarcastically.

"Well _you_ didn't have to put a knife to that one guy's throat!" Marik shot back.

"He was asking for it," Bakura replied, waving it away as if it were a minor detail, "Can we go home now? My bloody feet are tired."

"No! We have one more stop. And this time it will definitely work!"

Bakura groaned. He was well and truly fed up with this foolishness. All he wanted to do was go home, have a hot cup of tea, and watch a good five hours of _Saw_, but no. Marik had to finish his stupid little job interviews only to be turned down _again_. Why had he even bothered coming on this pointless waste of his time? He noticed that Marik was pulling him towards another building and his unamused expression evolved into one of loathing. God help the office drone that decided to say something stupid to him in there.

**MEANWHILE, IN THE TOOLSHED** (NO!)** BUT… **(NO WATERMELON!)** AWWW :( **

"So what are your qualifications?"

"I'm very sexy!"

"…Sir, this isn't a modeling agency."

"I am also very evil!"

Bakura massaged his temples, tired of this shtick.

"Marik, if that didn't work at the thousand other places we went to, what the bloody hell makes you think it will work here?" he said. Marik folded his arms and looked away from him, pouting. Bakura rolled his eyes and turned to the interviewer.

"Look, can we just hurry this up? I've had just about enough of this one's childish behavior."

"Hey!" Marik protested.

"_Marik_," Bakura warned, shooting the Egyptian a glare so evil it actually made him shut up and look down at his hands nervously.

"Is he always this 'childish?'" the interviewer asked.

"Oh, you wouldn't _believe _what I have to put up with," Bakura said. Marik would have protested the accusation again, but Bakura was still glaring at him.

"And how often do you two see each other?" the interviewer asked. Bakura turned his glare onto the man, causing the man to jump a little and fight to keep his composure. Bakura almost smirked. If 5000 years of being the spirit of the Millennium Ring had taught him anything, it had taught him how to perfect the evil glare.

"Why the bloody hell do you want to know?" he asked.

"W-well we could really use a guy like you," the interviewer managed to get out. Bakura raised an eyebrow. What could they possibly need _him_ for?

"You _do _know the kind of job this is, right?" the interviewer asked. Honestly, Bakura had no idea. He had agreed to go along with Marik, but he didn't care about the details. He and the interviewer both looked at Marik questioningly.

"What?" Marik asked once he noticed that all eyes were on him again, "What are you looking at me for?"

"Marik, _you_ bloody dragged me here," Bakura said.

"So?" Marik asked, completely oblivious.

"So you should know the kind of job you're signing up for!" Bakura said.

"Pff! I just came here to get a job! The details are unimportant!" Marik said, waving Bakura away.

And _that_ set off the volcano in Bakura's mind. The lava flowed downhill, threatening to destroy the village of Rational Thought and its much smaller neighbor, Sanity. The flames of Hell attacked the houses and the people who were not fast enough. Those that managed to outrun the demonic flame sounded like demons, themselves, screaming and hollering and causing such a stir that…

"…Sir?"

Bakura snapped back into reality where he realized that he had been slowly leaning towards Marik, his hands aimed at the boy's throat. He looked from his hands to Marik to the interviewer and back to his hands again. He cleared his throat and folded his arms, reverting back to his uncaring glare.

"Right, well," the interviewer began, "This is actually a day camp and we would like you to be one of our councilors."

"What? !" Marik and Bakura both said simultaneously.

"But _I'm _the one who applied!" Marik shouted, springing out of his chair, "All Fluffy did was sit there grumpily like the limey he is!"

"What have I told you about calling me Fluffy in public?" Bakura warned, but Marik was too full of effeminate fury to heed that warning.

"Shut up, Kitty!" he said, "I'm trying to shout at this guy." Bakura growled a little and the interviewer raised an eyebrow.

"…You didn't even know what the job was," he said.

"So?' Marik asked.

"…Look, if your friend here can handle living with _you_ I'm fully confident that he can handle a bunch of little kids," the man explained. Bakura could tell that Marik didn't get it. He could almost see the cogs in his mind working ever so slowly in an attempt to understand.

"Hey!" he said once he finally did.

Bakura sighed. He was in quite an uncomfortable position. On the one hand, he could take the job and have to look after a group of snot-nosed brats only to come home to Marik's constant bitching about not getting hired. On the other, he could reject the offer and _still_ have to listen to Marik's bitching. But wait just a card-game-playing moment, what was this forming in his mind? A third option?

Bakura smirked.

"I'll take the job," he said. The interviewer smiled and moved to shake Bakura's hand, but Bakura stopped him.

"On one condition," he said, "You have to hire him, as well." Marik pointed to himself; a question.

"Yes, Marik, you," Bakura clarified, rolling his eyes. Marik smiled and turned the point to the interviewer.

"Ha!" he said, "In your friggin' face! What are you gonna do now, huh?"

"_Marik_," Bakura warned again.

"Oh, right, sorry," Marik said.

The interviewer seemed skeptical at first, but he hired them both in the end. Bakura walked away feeling satisfied with himself. Marik was happy, he could push most of the work off on the boy, and he was getting paid for it. How could this possibly come back to bite him in the ass?

**Oh, but it will! Welcome, friends, to my interactive fanfic of possible doom! In order for this to work, you readers and reviewers must do one of several things:**

**Give me a character from one of your favorite works of fiction you would like to see as a kid in the day camp, a fellow councilor, or a parent/guardian of one of the kids. We can play with their ages all we want. You can do an RP PM with me for the character, or just allow me to play puppet master on my own.**

**Give me one of your OCs to use as a kid, councilor, or parent. An RP PM is needed for this one.**

**Give me a family member of yours to use as a kid, councilor, or parent. An RP PM is needed for this (man this is getting redundant). **

**YOU could be in this fanfic as one of those options (or in some other way)! Obviously, an RP PM is needed for this.**

**So send me your requests! If your character is from a fandom I am unfamiliar with, Future Me may take the time to gain that knowledge or just blow you off completely! But that's all a part of the fun! **

**So send me your reviews and remember kids: Exploiting people for your own enjoyment is cool!**

**(And if someone doesn't bring Doctor Who into this in some way, shape, or form I will be very cross.)**


End file.
